


BOOM

by TheFalconWarrior



Series: Life is a Rollercoaster (A Big, Twisty One) [19]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alfred disapproves (mildly), Damian has had enough, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Duke is Learning Something New Every Day, For the record Bruce's children ARE out of their minds, Gen, Jason is a Dork, Too many characters so I'm tagging the one relationship, Two Actually, that's a tag lol, things going boom, tim is a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 22:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFalconWarrior/pseuds/TheFalconWarrior
Summary: Okay, so Jason appreciates a good explosion once in a while. That doesn't mean it's a THING. (Even though it kind of is.)





	BOOM

**Author's Note:**

> #19: Scorched  
This started with the first scene. I’d been writing it for...a week? Week and a half? Since I posted the first chapter of Samaria. But I couldn’t get the story past that scene. (Honestly, I think it’s the first time I hit a block in the middle of writing rather than just kind of...drifting off.) So I stopped it there. But it didn’t feel like enough.  
So I decided to make a backwards countdown, starting with a line from the first scene and going through where it came from (ending with...the most important one, I guess.) and wrote four more scenes in one night.  
Then I briefly considered, considering the countdown, putting a real explosion at the end. But RL’s been crap and I just want to post something happy (and a little fluffy, and a little crazy, and maybe a little unedited), right now.

** _ 5 _ **

When Oracle contacted Red Robin and Nightwing with the news, Red Robin just huffed out a laugh. “You know, there’s some things in life that just _go _together,” he reflected aloud as he aimed his grapple at the highest gargoyle on the building in front of him. 

“_Batman and Robin_,” Nightwing offered over the comms. 

Red Robin flipped over the short wall surrounding the rooftop he was on, shooting out a grappling line and swinging over the street. “Salt and pepper.” 

“_Peanut butter and jelly. Butter and toast_.” 

“Moon and stars.” He ran across the rooftop towards the edge. 

“_East down Robbins Lane_,” Oracle said in his ear. “_Car crash on Grant, Robbins is faster tonight._” 

“_Macaroni and cheese. Fish and chips,_” Nightwing went on. 

“Pen and paper.” He swung from another building, relishing the feel of what passed as fresh air in Gotham hitting his face and whipping through his hair, and was glad he’d gotten rid of his cowl. 

“_Burger and fries._” 

“Christmas and snow. Apples and cinnamon, forks and spoons.” 

“_Milk and cookies. Sandwiches and soup._” 

“_He didn’t have dinner today, did he, Red Robin__,_” Oracle interjected. 

“He did, actually,” Tim laughed. 

“_I’m a growing boy_,” Nightwing chirped. 

“_You’re a full-grown man._” 

“_I’m a vigilante, all this swinging around and punching people makes you hungry._” 

“_Do us all a favor and stop talking about food before the rest of us start salivating, and __dinner’s __on me tonight._” 

“_Dick and Babs,” _a voice whispered in Tim’s ear, and he turned, laughing, to face his sister. Black Bat smiled. 

“_Is there a point to all of __this,_” Red Hood’s voice joined in over the comms, sullenly. “_I’m trying to concentrate, here._” 

“Yep,” Red Robin said, as Black Bat shot a grapple and swung off. 

“_Red Hood and explosions." _The four of them were perfectly in sync, and Tim couldn’t help but laugh again. Dick’s laughter, loud and wild, rang over the comms, mixing with Babs’ snickers, whilst Jason spluttered. Next to him Red Robin could see Cass’s smile, and imagined how her eyes would be sparkling behind her mask. 

“What _are __y’all __trying to imply, here? _” Jason demanded, finally. 

“_We’re calling you a trouble magnet, of course, Hood,_” Nightwing said cheekily. 

Black Bat stopped at the edge of a rooftop, and Red Robin swung to land in a crouch beside her. 

“Well, I think we’ve found your location, Hood,” Tim said, staring at the blazing warehouse at the edge of the docks. 

“_How’s it looking?” _ Nightwing asked, all business now. 

“_The place is on frickin'__ fire_,” Hood announced. 

“_So.__..could __be worse? _” 

“_Yup_,” Hood said cheerfully. “_It was just the one explosion-- _” 

A deep rumble shook the ground beneath their feet. 

_ BOOM. _

_ “Never mind._” 

** _ 4 _ **

Damian narrowed his eyes, focusing intensely on the floppy white cylinder perched at the end of the skewer he held. 

Earlier this morning, Drake had been wandering through the manor, singing some inane song. 

“_It’s sticky, sticky, chewy, chewy, crunchy, crunchy, gooey, gooey..." _

Damian had initially assumed it was a nursery rhyme, and determinedly ignored him (mentally running back through time and trying to figure out how he may have annoyed the older boy recently.) 

It was when Grayson joined in, the two singing at the_ top of their lungs_, that Damian finally snapped. 

As it turned out, ridiculous as it was, the song was not, in fact, an American nursery rhyme. And whilst neither Drake nor Grayson had been surprised that Damian had never heard of Reader Rabbit, both looked disbelieving—and a little indignant—when they learned Damian didn’t know what a s’more was, either. 

Apparently, Thomas, Todd, Brown, and even Cassandra had been equally as disbelieving that he had never eaten a s’more (and what a ridiculous name _that _was). 

And now here they were, gathered around a fire blazing in a squat firepit in the back yard of the manor. 

Brown had immediately handed her skewered marshmallow over to Drake. 

“You’re the best at toasting,” she announced. “If we’re having s’mores, they need to be_ perfect_.” 

“You’re not toasting it yourself?” Thomas had gasped, and Damian rolled his eyes. 

“Toasting the marshmallow is half the point, Steph,” Grayson had added, with a half-grin and a raised eyebrow. 

“It ain’t _your_ s’more unless you’ve done it yourself,” Todd agreed, twisting the skewer in his hands and examining the marshmallow at the end critically. “It’s like buying chocolate chip cookies from a grocery store.” 

“You’re just jealous because you feel too insecure to ask Tim to do it for you,” Brown stated cheerfully. “Besides, Tim doesn’t mind, do ya Timmy?” 

Drake just shrugged and smiled. “Nah. You have to get the crackers and chocolate ready then, though.” 

“Deal,” Stephanie announced, flouncing over to the folding chair where Grayson had deposited a box of graham crackers and a six-pack of Hershey’s milk chocolate bars. 

(Damian was now determined to toast a marshmallow _better _than Drake. Once he figured out how a proper toasted marshmallow was actually supposed to be done.) 

Drake had a look of utmost concentration on his face, lips pressed together, as he held the two marshmallows near the tip of the flames. Grayson and Duke, too, held their marshmallows at a similar altitude. Damian decided that was the safer route to follow, rather than sticking the marshmallows deep into the bottom of the flames as Todd and Cassandra did. 

“You’re gonna burn them,” Richard said with a half-smile and a raised eyebrow. 

Todd cackled as Cassandra stuck her tongue out, removing her marshmallow (it was scorched brown on one side and still white and powdery from the other) and squashing it between two graham crackers. Jason stopped laughing suddenly. 

“Shit,” he said, pulling his stick out of the flames. Sans marshmallow. 

There was...what sounded like a loud _puff_, and the fire flickered wildly. 

They all stared at the fire before Grayson spoke. “Did the marshmallow just--?” 

Stephanie started laughing first. Quickly followed by Cassandra, then Drake and Richard. Duke chuckled. Jason’s lips were quirked upwards. “You’re frickin kidding me.” 

Damian rolled his eyes. “Only you, Todd.” 

“Shut up, little demon. Your marshmallow is burning.” 

Damian decidedly did NOT yelp as he pulled the flaming marshmallow back from the fire. 

(Once he’d shaken out the tongue of flame, the marshmallow was gray and pebbled and...ashy. Drake’s were a relatively even shade of light brown, and Grayson and Duke’s were...a little less even, but a similar golden-brown color. 

Dammit. 

Well, at least his hadn’t _exploded._) 

** _ 3 _ **

All the evidence had pointed towards the warehouse being a headquarters for a human trafficking ring of some kind, and the thought had made Duke sick. 

“_They’ll be home any minute now,_” Oracle had warned over the comms. 

“_Then let’s blow this joint,_” Red Hood had said gleefully. 

(The Signal hadn’t realized he meant it literally until the older vigilante was dragging him towards his bike and there was a_ boom_ followed by the sounds of crumbling bricks and the hiss and crackle of flames.) 

The rumble of the motorcycle echoed through the cave. Duke flipped up his visor a little dazedly, as the man in front of him hopped off the dark red bike, grinning wildly, smelling of smoke, ash streaking his leather jacket and gray bodysuit and coating his wildly mussed hair. 

Wait. 

“Where’s your helmet?” 

Jason just smirked, jerking a thumb back at the image of a fire blazing on the screen of the Batcomputer behind him. 

“You’re kidding me.” 

“Unfortunately not,” Alfred said as he appeared, mildly disapproving frown on his face and towels in hand. 

“Aw, c’mon Alfie, it’s a classic.” 

“Literally_ no one _else keeps explosives in their helmets,” Tim called from the chair in front of the Batcomputer. “Or _ever_ has.” 

“It’s a brand-new classic. I just made it one.” 

** _ 2 _ **

“Allow me,” Jason said, and Dick looked up. Jason made a “gimme” motion with his fingers and Dick shook his head, grinning. 

“Should’ve known you’d want to be the one setting off anything explosive,” he said, bowing theatrically as he held out the lighter. “Be my guest.” 

He stood guard while Jason lit up each individual fuse, scanning the rooftops of the warehouses and buildings set behind the piers. It had been a quiet night so far, he reflected. It was rather nice, really. 

But it was about to change. 

“Done,” Jason said, and Dick nodded, following his brother towards the nearest warehouse and shooting a grapple line up to the roof. 

Dick lifted a hand to his comm, turning his connection back on. “Requesting backup to Pier 15.” 

“_On my way,_” Red Robin said immediately, and Dick felt a little bad. 

“_Tt. What have you gotten yourself into, __Nightwing__? _” Robin asked. Dick could tell he was worried, and felt a tad guiltier. 

“Nightwing. Red Hood.” Batman’s voice was flat, but Dick could hear the reprimand loud and clear. 

“Enjoy the show, old man,” Jason said, and Dick could hear the smile in his voice as he heard the high-pitched whine followed by a crackling_ boom_. 

“Wow,” Red Robin whispered over the comms, and Robin was suspiciously silent. The air around them was filled with more droning and more explosions, and Red Robin laughed over the comms and Batman grunted. But it was a_ hm, that wasn’t that bad_ kind of grunt, not a _what the hell were you thinking _one or a _you are about to be BENCHED _one or even just a _my children are all out of their minds _one. 

Dick grinned, guilt dissipating, and bumped Jason’s shoulder with his own. 

He couldn’t see his brother’s face under the hood, and Jason never shifted his head from where it was tilted towards the sky, but he bumped him back. 

Dick grinned as he looked up, too, watching millions of brightly colored sparks light up Gotham’s sky. 

** _ 1 _ **

_ Gotta__ keep. One jump. Ahead of the breadline. One swing ahead of the sword... _

Okay, so Dickie’s collection of Disney movies was a little pathetic. (If it was, in fact, only Goldie who was collecting the films—an assumption Jason had begun to doubt, recently.) 

But_ anyways_. They were loud and flashy and full of those ridiculous songs, which was frankly all that Jason needed tonight. 

_ (A boom and a flash of light and—they never bothered him, really, on patrol, he hasn’t had flashbacks in years but somehow when the images come to him in the night...) _

ANYWAYS. It was for this sole reason that it was rather a nice thing he’d been at the manor tonight. 

“Aladdin?” 

Jason suppressed a groan as he looked up, hiding it behind a sneer. “Least it ain’t the animated one.” 

Dick’s lip quirked up, and he offered a shrug. “Damian finds the original offensive. This one’s my favorite live action, though.” 

He stepped inside the doorway, plopping down onto the sofa right next to where Jason had leaned up against the arm. 

“Oi, who invited you, Goldie?” Jason snarled as he was jostled from his comfortable position. 

“It’s my movie, I think that entitles me to watch it.” Dick was sitting close enough that their shoulders touched. Jason considered shoving him off the couch. 

It would be...hilarious. 

But. He hadn’t slept three hours tonight, and he was a little too tired to bother right now. 

Dick didn’t say anything else, and Jason...appreciated that. 

He was exhausted. 

“Aladdin?” 

“What’s it to ya, Replacement?” Jason muttered tiredly, not bothering to look up. Tim appeared by the arm of the sofa, and settled himself onto the ground in front of Dick’s legs. 

He hummed. “I never got to finish it.” 

“Please tell me you just woke up, Timmy,” Dick said, swiping his fingers through Tim’s hair, but he sounded like he already knew the answer. (Jason sure did.) 

“I just woke up,” Tim said, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. 

It was a lame joke, and a cliche one, but Jason couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped anyways. 

Aladdin was running from the guards, twisting between buildings, and Jason got a first-hand reminder of why nobody wanted to watch a movie with a Bat as Dick and Tim started up the commentary. 

(Normally, he’d have plenty to add on his own. But. He was tired. 

Instead he just watched the bright colors flash across the screen and listened to his brothers talk.) 

(He only knows he’d fallen asleep when his eyes open and the room is lit up orange and pink from the sky outside. He’s sideways on the couch, legs kicked over the arm, his head against Dick’s shoulder (Dick’s head leaned back against the back of the sofa, arms loosely crossed in front of him) and one hand dangling, brushing against something (Tim, curled up in a ball at Dick’s feet.). 

He isn’t tired anymore. 

He shoves Dick off the couch. 

He lands on Tim, both of them yell and Jason ends up on the ground in the midst of the ensuing madness of limbs and shouts, but he’s laughing the whole time and Dick and Tim quickly join in.) 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's interested lol...Tim's s'mores song:  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axeOKV-G7mI


End file.
